In the UAE, you’re not speaking to a person. You’re speaking to a population of contrasts. Great creative work doesn’t choose between local or global; it braids them. Here’s what South Africa taught me about making ideas hold in the Middle East.
Back home, they’re more than a hairstyle. They’re a statement. A story. A way of threading heritage into identity.
And creatively, I think the metaphor holds. Because the best work doesn’t stick to a single strand. It weaves. Connects. Braids tension into meaning. Contrast into truth.
And here in the UAE, that tension is everywhere. Do we go hyper-local? Or do we go universal? Is it better to build for the Emirati mother in Sharjah, or the Filipino barista in Deira? The Arab Gen Z girl on TikTok, or the Indian father working away from his family in Karama?
Welcome to advertising in the Emirates. Where culture is currency, but your audience doesn’t share the same wallet.
I’ve been in the Middle East for three years now. And one of the first things I noticed, coming from South Africa, is how differently we approach culture here.
There, a country with 11 official languages, multiculturalism is instinctive. Baked into every frame. We speak in code-switches. Zulu headlines. Afrikaans idioms. Work constantly juggling different identities, often in the same 30 seconds.
And honestly, speaking to different cultures is second nature to me. My extended family covers the full spectrum of colour in South Africa. Fitting in with the cousins meant knowing when and how to switch things up; tone, slang, even the way you greeted someone. You learn fast that fluency isn’t about the language. It’s about reading the room.
Here, there’s a stronger gravitational pull. Arabic insight is often the cultural core. And that’s not just a creative choice; it’s a responsibility. One that honors heritage, religion, pride, and identity. But the gravitational center isn’t always the emotional one.
There’s no question, culturally anchored work can punch above its weight. A well-placed reference to majlis culture, a nod to Ramadan nuance, a wink only Emiratis will catch… that’s creative shorthand for: “We see you.”
And in a region that often feels spoken over, being spoken to matters. But here’s the uncomfortable bit. Sometimes, the only people clapping for culturally “accurate” work… are the people who made it.
A clever line in Arabic. A nostalgic visual cue. It wins applause. Gets polite nods. But does it connect? Or are we mistaking recognition for resonance?
The truth is: local isn’t always intimate. And worse; sometimes it becomes decoration. A regional garnish on a universal idea. Throw a keffiyeh on it. Use oud music. Say “habibi.” Done. That’s not cultural fluency. That’s a checklist.
So, what’s the alternative?
The big, borderless, feel-it-anywhere idea. Emotion over explanation. Belonging beyond briefing. Sure, that’s powerful. We’ve all felt it. The Nike film that made you run, the Spotify ad that made you remember, the Coke spot that didn’t need subtitles. They don’t wait to be processed. They punch first, explain later.
But don’t confuse vagueness for universality. If your idea works just as well in Amsterdam as it does in Abu Dhabi, maybe it wasn’t saying anything specific at all. Too many global ads feel like hotel breakfasts; technically correct, emotionally bland.
This is where the UAE gets complex; and honestly, more creatively demanding than most markets I’ve worked in.
You’re not just speaking to a person. You’re speaking to a population of contrasts. Friday prayers and Friday brunches. Sudanese aunties and South Korean stans. A region that demands respect for culture and expects relevance from the algorithm. Where East meets West meets South Asia meets the GCC. And somehow, your idea has to thread that needle.
The best work here doesn’t choose local or global. It braids them.
Like a strand of heritage, wrapped around a strand of humanity, pulled tight by the craft that knows how to hold both. It’s Emirati insight told with cinematic empathy. It’s Gulf tradition wrapped in Gen Z attention spans.
It’s what makes an idea belong here, not just land here.
A perfect example is Adidas’ “Liquid Billboard”. A bold invitation for women to swim, in a place where that’s still layered. Regionally sharp. Globally moving. That’s a braid. One strand alone would’ve snapped.
So where do I land?
If your campaign can only speak to one side, it’s not fluent enough. If it’s only grounded in insight but forgets to fly (or only aims to soar but forgets the soil) it’s not a braid, it’s a break. The best ideas don’t choose sides. They build bridges. Between identities. Between audiences.
Between cultures that don’t speak the same language but feel the same truth.
The work that lasts is the work that pulls tight.
By Lyle Martin, Associate Creative Director, Horizon FCB
